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If it's true, as he says, I am driven
by a noble limitless eagerness whose ends I believe in so strongly I disregard our weak conquered flesh as vile, would you perceive someone as in error who's sheltered from the dark by a circle of endless radiance, but that you think her light is frail mortal tinsel, a dream? But I know my husband is in this light; he calls to me with a sweet voice, expects from my nature and art courageous acts; so I distance myself from his friends who care for me, and tenderly, sans restraint, address the man who can open my heart. |
An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition |
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Notes: V CLXXI:331. From B A2:40:75. Key |
